#57The Lost Sheep

There were nine ty and nine that safe ly lay In the shel ter of the fold, But one was out on the hills a way, Far off from the gates of gold, A way on the moun tains wild and bare, A way from the ten der Shep herd's care.

"Lord, thou hast here thy nine ty and nine; Are they not e nough for thee?" But the Shep herd made an swer: "This of mine Has wan der'd a way from me, And al though the road be rough and steep, I go to the des ert to find my sheep."

But none of the ran somed ev er knew How deep were the wa ters crossed; Nor how dark was the night that the Lord pass'd through Ere he found his sheep that was lost. Out in the des ert he heard its cry — Sick and help less, and rea dy to die.

"Lord, whence are those blood drops all the way That mark out the moun tain's track?" "They were shed for one who had gone a stray Ere the Shep herd could bring him back." "Lord, whence are thy hands so rent and torn?" "They are pierced to night by man y a thorn."

But all through the moun tains, thun der riv'n, And up from the rock y steep, There a rose a cry to the gate of heav'n, "Re joice! I have found my sheep!" And the an gels ech oed a round the throne, "Re joice! for the Lord brings back his own!"